


Proud Of Your Boy

by Sammy1983Moose



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: All other characters are mentioned - Freeform, But not in the actual story, Death of a Parent, Grief/Loss, Sokka-centric, Zukka (mentioned), blink and you miss it Zukka, sokka is my boy and I Love Him, sokka/zuko - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25834627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammy1983Moose/pseuds/Sammy1983Moose
Summary: It had been eight years.It had been eight long, painful years, and Sokka had nothing to offer. He wasn’t even sure what to offer. If anything could even possibly be enough to make up for the eight years he’d spent avoiding what he should’ve done a long time ago.It had been eight years, and it was time to visit his mother.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	Proud Of Your Boy

It had been eight years.

It had been eight long, painful years, and Sokka had nothing to offer. He wasn’t even sure what to offer. If anything could even possibly be enough to make up for the eight years he’d spent avoiding what he should’ve done a long time ago.

It had been eight years, and it was time to visit his mother.

Sokka was never the type to speak to anyone about what had happened that day; he remembered it starkly, like a hot iron had branded it on his skin. He could recall every little detail, and he wished sometimes that he couldn’t remember a single thing. 

He’d never been sure which had hurt worse; the look in his sister's eyes or the look on his father's face when the two had emerged from the tent. He’d asked where his mother was, asked why she hadn’t come out of the tent, and when Hakoda’s face fell, Sokka had felt the most intense pain in his chest, and he shook his head, running forward.

Sokka had tried pushing past his father that day to get to Kya; he’d shoved and fought and kicked, and Hakoda had had Bato take the both of them away. Katara had been sobbing, but Sokka had been outright screaming. Katara had once said that he hadn’t loved their mother like she had. He thinks, later, that the trauma made her forget that part. He never blamed her. How could he?

He’d never gotten to say goodbye. He’d refused to attend the funeral, at least up close. There were a lot of things Sokka had to face growing up, and a lot of hard things he’d had to see and do.

Sokka had said goodbye to his father and took on the responsibility of taking care of his sister when Hakoda went off to war. He’d geared up at the age of 15, knowing full well the fire nation had him outmanned and outgunned, ready to die to protect his tribe. Sokka had laid his life down to get Aang to the fire nation to take down Ozai. 

But at the tender age of 10, he couldn’t watch them bury his mother, and he’d felt like a coward every single day since. Hakoda had tried to persuade Sokka to forgive himself; after all, he’d only been a child, with more grief than he ever knew what to do with, a grief far heavier than any child should ever have to try to carry. 

Sokka refused to hear it.

Bury was a loose term, as far as semantics go. It had been Winter, and the ground was far too solid. They’d had to bury her above ground, surrounded and covered by heavy stones, like they so often had to with their lost ones. The ones they didn’t send off to sea, that is. That was saved for the warriors, the fighters.

It was how Sokka would send his father off one day. How he’d be sent off one day, too. 

As he trudged through the snow, Sokka had the thought that maybe he should’ve told Katara he was coming. He’s sure she would’ve liked to be here too, despite the fact that she had her hands full between planning her wedding with Aang and helping the Northern Water Tribe establish a larger school with more teachers for water bending. 

Nevertheless, Sokka wanted to do this alone. He needed to do it alone. 

The nature of their burial site made it easy for Sokka to locate. Though the landscape was always changing with the seasons, the tribe always managed to keep the site clear enough, save for that one particularly hard winter three years after they’d lost Kya. 

It was decently sized, lending itself to its age and to the circumstances of war, but even so, and even if he’d been watching from a distance, Sokka knew precisely where his mother was. Amongst the cairns, decorated with familiar belongings of those who had passed, was the one he’d seen his sister and father tending to. The one marked with, not Katara’s necklace, but Kya’s. The betrothal necklace Hakoda had gifted Kya years before Sokka had been born, and had been worn by the woman every day. 

A lump, hard and painful, grew in his throat, and his steps faltered; not for the first time, Sokka nearly turned right back around. He knew he couldn’t possibly do this; he’d done that far too many times already, and refused to do it again. Steeling himself, the man took a shaky breath and approached.

He kneeled down, bowing his head, and it took Sokka a while before he could speak; finding the words was difficult, and finding the ability to speak them was proving nearly impossible. 

“Mom… I, uh..” he let out another shaky breath, then inhaled deeply, letting it out and shutting his eyes. 

“I should’ve come here a long time ago. I should’ve been here that day, and I wasn’t, and I’m- I’m so, so sorry mom… I don’t know if Katara’s been here lately, but you’d be so proud of her. I did everything I could to keep her safe, just like I promised I always would. She looks so much like you..” 

Sokka felt a hot dampness on his cheeks and realized he’d started crying at some point, but he pressed on. 

“I miss you so much, mom… I miss you, and I wish you could’ve been there for the end of the war. I wish I could introduce you to Aang. You’d be happy he’s the one marrying Katara,” he breathed out a weak laugh, “He looks at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

I’d have loved for you to meet our other friends, too. Toph, who’s probably the scariest and most impressive kid I’ve ever met. She invented metal-bending, can you believe..? Or Suki, who could take down anyone in a fight,

I wish I could introduce you to Zuko, w-who…”

Not today. The words caught in his throat, stuck and desperately impossible. One day, he promised. He swore to it. But not yet. 

“I just wanted to apologize to you… I should’ve been there, mom. I did everything I could to make up for that. I protected Katara, and I followed her when she believed it was her job to get Aang to the North Pole to learn water bending. Aang is the Avatar, see, and we-we helped him.. We won the war, mom… I couldn’t stop thinking about you during the last big fight, how unfair it was that you’re gone, and what-” his voice shook, “What a massive hole it left in our lives…”

His hands clenched into fists, and he finally let out a quiet, wounded noise.

“I love you, mom… I love you, and I promise I’ll come around. I promise.”

Two weeks later, Sokka returned with Katara and Aang. A month after that, he returned with Zuko.

After that, it was almost always alone, but it was like clockwork. Once or twice a month, he would be sure to visit. He’d take the time to rebuild her cairn, to clear the snow away, and to speak to her, tell her he loved her. 

He hoped she could hear him, and she hoped she was proud.

One day, without any prompting, Aang touched Sokka’s arm, and they met eyes. 

“She’s always been proud of you, Sokka…”

And he just knew.


End file.
